Chapter Twenty-Five
Joyce looked beyond harassed as she barged through William’s front door without knocking.
“Where is she?” she demanded when she spotted him in the kitchen. “Is she okay?”
“She’s doing better now,” he replied, quick to reassure her. “But she’s had a rough time of it. She’s on the couch.”
Nodding her thanks, Joyce immediately made for the living room. “Buffy?”
Looking up, Buffy practically flew into her mother’s arms, the seemingly never ending tears starting yet again.
“Honey, what happened?” Her mother sounded calmer now that she was holding Buffy in her arms; could see for herself that her daughter was alright.
William entered with cups of hot tea and Buffy sank back down onto the couch, accepting her cup gratefully.
Taking a sip of the hot liquid, she placed the cup carefully on the coffee table. “Will and I were shopping on Main Street this morning,” she began, hating that she had to have this conversation. “We were passing by Dad’s office building and we just happened to see him out the front talking to a woman. He kissed her on the cheek and then left in a taxi.” Seeing her mother’s eyes widen in surprise, she hurried on, “Not that kind of kiss. Just a friendly kiss. But…it sent me into some kind of panic attack.”
“A panic attack,” her mother said. “But why would that–”
“Mom,” Buffy cut her off, needing to get this out before she lost her nerve. “I know why I got sick.”
It took her a half hour to explain it all. In that time her mother had risen to go stand by the window. She had yet to say a word.
“I think that first night there really was a Merrick. That he was just a man who saw a girl crying in the park and wanted to make her feel better,” she said as she was finishing her tale of that life-altering day. “But after that…I think maybe that’s when I started to see things that weren’t really there. Merrick, or the thought of Merrick, became a safe haven for me. I just wanted to feel like I was in control again. I wanted to be a hero.”
Rising from the couch, Buffy approached her mother, touching her on the shoulder. “I’m so sorry you had to find out like this.”
“I knew.” Her mother’s voice was so quiet she almost missed the words.
Buffy frowned, thinking she must have heard wrong. “What?”
Joyce turned from the window and now Buffy could see the anger in her eyes. “I knew he was having an affair. I’d insisted he end it; he didn’t. We’d been talking about a separation. Then you got sick.” Joyce’s fists clenched tightly and her voice wavered with rage. “Suddenly he changed. He told me he was sorry and that he would never do it again. That he just wanted to concentrate on you and our marriage.” She began to shake her head. “He never told me that you knew. He never told me that you saw him like that…with her.”
Moving suddenly, Joyce grabbed her purse from the coffee table and headed for the door. “He never told me it was all his fault!”
**********
When Buffy and William pulled to a screeching halt in front of the house a few minutes later, they could already hear the argument that was going on inside.
“How could you?!” Joyce’s voice bellowed as they came through the front door.
“What was I supposed to say?” Hank’s words were quieter, his face heavy with shame. “Our daughter saw me having sex with another woman and it drove her crazy – literally. You were already so upset. How was I supposed to tell you that?”
Holding William’s hand clenched tightly in her own, Buffy took a deep breath and, swiping at the tears on her cheeks, she entered the room.
When Hank caught sight of her, he stilled. “Buffy,” he whispered.
When she continued to stand silently just inside the doorway he walked slowly toward her. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Why did you do it, Dad?” she asked solemnly. “I thought we were happy; a family.”
He shook his head angrily, though she could tell it was self-directed. “I don’t know. Your mother and I were having problems and I just…let it happen. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.”
“Didn’t you wonder why I never told Mom?” Her composure was beginning to crack now, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“At first I guess I just thought you didn’t want to upset your mother. But then later, when we realised there was something wrong with you…You didn’t seem to even remember it.”
“I couldn’t honestly tell you if I remembered it or not,” she snapped. “From that night on I’m not sure what memories are real and which are false. I’ll never know for sure what happened next.” Her body began to crumble as she fought against the reality of the situation. Her own father had triggered the breakdown that kept her a prisoner in her own mind for six long years. No wonder I had such fucked up relationships with men, she thought bitterly.
William’s arms wrapped around her from behind, holding her upright and she was grateful for his support.
“Tell me,” she demanded with a quiet force. “Why did you stay?”
“Oh my God.” Joyce’s shocked murmur reached them from across the room before Hank had a chance to answer. “You stayed because you felt guilty. You told me you loved me and begged me to take you back so we could support Buffy together. But really you just felt guilty for making her sick in the first place. You bastard.” They had barely registered that she had moved when the sudden crack of her hand meeting his face sounded.
Holding his reddening cheek, Hank pleaded, “I realised that what I was doing was destroying my family. It wasn’t worth it. I didn’t want to lose you, Joyce. And I would have done anything to make Buffy well again.”
“Anything except tell the truth? It might have made a difference Hank!” Joyce stationed herself between Hank and Buffy, as if she felt the need to protect her daughter now where she couldn’t before. “Maybe if they’d known what really happened, they could have done something differently. They could have pulled her back before she went too far.”
“I told the doctor, Joyce – in confidence. He said he would factor it into her treatment.” He shook his head, looking more defeated than Buffy had ever seen him. “It didn’t change anything.”
Overwhelmed by all this new information, Buffy pressed her hands to her temples. It was too much to take in all at once. The rage she saw in her mother, the brokenness of her father. Her own confused feelings; at once relieved to finally know why she got sick and disgusted that the cause was so base and deceitful.
“I have to get out of here,” she declared suddenly. Bolting for the front door she flung it open and ran out into the darkness of the night.